The Rock Star's Wife

by Raven McAllan

  Chapter Seven

  By the look on Nico's face it was the last thing he expected her to say.

  "Dave Johnson. The builder who was doing the extension on the villa. I'd been helping him, we were both filthy and didn't want to mess up the shower. In hindsight I should have remembered there's no such thing as a private beach. But hell, it was early evening, hardly anyone about, and it was into the sea, swim and throw water over each other, and out again. Ten minutes and then he went home to Donna-Kay and I went in to a lonely TV supper. Typical though, that one of the three or four people in the distance was a paparazzo, with a telephoto lens. Then we were the talk of the village for, oh, all of five minutes, but of course the scandal rags got hold of it."

  "Which of course I saw. And laughed! Anyone more hetero I do not know. Stig Murchison, you know the guy who Ali Buchan fancied? He said if you were gay, he was hetero and that scared the pants off him."

  "And the rest?"

  "Pure rubbish. You might not have shared much of yourself, but I do know you better than that. However, Nico, those things aren't the problem. They never were."

  He nodded. "Yeah, I know. Can we try again? With you shouting and nagging when I backslide? Will you be my wife in every way? Let me share everything with you?"

  That silly expression, 'the air stood still', was oh so apt at that moment. The silence was deafening.

  What did he say?

  Kenna opened her mouth.

  So did the door, and Ella poked her head around it. "Hey, Nic, sorry to butt in, but…"

  "You will be," Nico said grimly. "Go away." The annoyance on his face could have been comical except Kenna agreed with him. Talk about your big moment being spoiled.

  "Nic, we can't. We all need to go downstairs," Ella said in a pleading voice. "Robbo says we need to go now, before the fans get restless. They all know we go down after a half hour or so. It's well past that now. You must come."

  "Nico, you must." Kenna added her voice to Ella's. "I promise I'll wait here."

  He held his hand out toward her. "Come with me."

  Damn it, why did he have to ask that? She shook her head, watched his face freeze and become blank and felt like the biggest piece of dog doo ever.

  "I can't, not now. We need to be sure it’s what we both want. From no wife to very much an in-your-face wife is a bloody big step. For you and your fans. We need to know it's the right thing, and a forever thing."

  "It is," Nico said. "It is…isn't it?"

  "Is it? I hope so. Maybe. Mind you." Kenna hesitated, unsure if he'd know what she meant. "I think I want to be wooed."

  "Wooed? As in courted?"

  Phew. "Yeah hearts and flowers, and love notes and poems."

  "Daisies, and another song."

  "Yeah, daisies. Not sure about the song. The last one was enough." She rolled her eyes, and kissed his cheek. His skin was soft and warm, and the scent of sweat mingled with the earthy, woody essence that was Nico. It was all she could do not to move the kiss to his mouth hold him tight and say, sod em all; I want you now.

  "Now shoo. Get downstairs. The sooner you go the sooner you'll be back. Like I said, I promise I'll be here when you get back."

  ****

  It was the longest half hour or so in his life. Nico had thrown water over his face and hair and had a quick wash. There was no time for a shower, and he wondered how Kenna had put up with his smelly, sweat soaked body next to her without wrinkling her nose up at the stench.

  Then he'd left the room, reluctantly, but with the knowledge she would keep her word and be there when he got back.

  As Nico chatted to the stalwart fans, signed most things thrust in front of him—he drew the line at boobs and other intimate body parts—he discovered his mood was lighter than it had been for ages. As they went back up in the lift, leaving a group of happy fans behind them, Ramona remarked on it.

  "So it’s all on again then? Wedded bliss and no more mumpy Nico?"

  He shrugged. "Let's say negotiations are at an advanced stage. Which reminds me, do either of you have any idea where I can get hold of some daisies?"

  Ramona took a step back and leaned on the lift wall, presumably so she could look up at him. "As in flowers? At this time of night?

  "Yeah."

  "Try the lawn."

  "Good idea." He pressed the button to stop the lift at the next floor. "I'll see you both in the morning." The lift did a gentle jerk and the doors opened. Nico got out and held the doors open with his foot. "And don't go annoying Kenna."

  He headed for the service lift and ignored the sniggers behind him.

  It was sod's law that the baker was in the kitchen, and the air redolent with the warm, yeasty smell of freshly baked bread. On cue, Nico's stomach rumbled. The baker looked up and did a double take.

  "Bloody hell, Hughes in my kitchen. What can I do for you, hey will you sign my hat?" He took the white cap off his head and thrust it at Nico. "Just put to Jeebsy."

  "You got a pen? Oh hold on, I've a felt tip." Nico fished in his pocket and pulled out the marker a fan had told him to hold onto. He scrawled the name and added his, and then wrote a few more words under it before he handed it back.

  Jeebsy read the inscription and looked at Nico.

  "Thanks for the tasty bread? Like when have you eaten it?"

  "Like in two seconds if you give me a bit." Nico winked. "I'm starved and I need to find daisies for my lady."

  "Daisies?" Nico broke a hunk of bread of a steaming loaf and slathered it with butter. "Here you go. Try the dining room. I'm sure that's what's on the tables."

  It was tempting but… "Nah, I want to pick some. I'm gonna try the lawn."

  Jeebsy laughed. "You're crazy, man. It's peeing down."

  "Ah well, I never did get my shower. Wish me luck."

  ****

  Peeing down was a misnomer. The heavens had opened, and even before he reached the lawn, Nico was soaked through. He pushed his hair back off his face, looked at the way his t-shirt and jeans were plastered to him and outlined every contour of his body, and hoped to hell no paparazzi or fans were around to see him. Mind you they'd need to be stupid or gluttons for punishment to brave the elements.

  Nico shook his head, and water flew around him like a cloud of dancing droplets. Thank goodness it was summer. At least the rain was semi warm.

  The few daisies he could see by the light of the torch on his phone—God help him if the night porter caught him, Nico reckoned he'd be off to the nearest secure unit before you could say 'rock star'—were wilted and bedraggled but Nico picked them anyway.

  It was the thought that counted, surely?

  Nico decided he must have earned plus points for his gesture. If he were honest he rather liked the thought he'd achieved something a little bit different. Okay, the flowers probably wouldn't last much beyond the next morning and there were only seven blooms, but he'd gone and found them. Him, by himself, and not asked someone to do it on his behalf.

  He squelched back through the kitchen, waved the bunch at Jeebsy who high fived him, then grabbed a mop to clean up Nico's up muddy footprints.

  "Hellfire, I never thought of that. Sterile kitchens and so on. Have I fucked breakfast?"

  Jeebsy shook his head. "Nah, man, it's all good. I've finished baking and was about to clean before cooking for breakfast starts. Go and woo your woman. Hey, I'm a dab hand at wedding cakes."

  "Let's hope I need one?" What was he saying? They were married—weren't they?

  In his drenched state, Nico thought he'd give the lift a miss. After all it was only a four story run up to the apartment. He was fit, it should be a doddle.

  Or not. A doddle if you hadn't done a three hour stage show, bared your soul, and picked flowers in the rain. By the time he reached the apartment door he was so out of breath it was embarrassing. He opened the door with his key card, thankful it was only damp around the edges, and went into the hall. To see a sealed envelope on the floor with his name on it.
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  He recognized the writing: Kenna's. What the…Oh shit, pray she hasn't changed her mind and it's not a Dear John note.

  Chapter Eight

  Kenna looked at the clock for the umpteenth time. It was exactly one minute fifty three seconds since the last time she'd checked.

  Where was he? He'd said an hour tops. It was an hour and forty-five, and counting. What if he'd changed his mind? What if he was pissed at her letter? What if he hadn't meant to take things as far as she'd thought? What if…

  And what if the sky falls in and the earth disintegrates into tiny pieces? Hadn't she always maintained that 'what if' were two of the most redundant words ever when used as a phrase? Kenna stood up, smoothed down the dress she had substituted for the clothes she'd worn previously, and wondered if stockings and suspenders were going a bit over the top.

  It so is. She'd change back into her shirt and trousers. Mind made up, she spun on her heels and walked to where her half-open case sat on a stand.

  The knock on the door made her jump.

  Kenna smoothed her hands over her skirts once more, and went to peer though the peephole.

  The anxious look on Nico's face made her hands slip as she scrabbled to undo the lock and open the door.

  He held out a tiny, wilting posy.

  "The best I could do in this weather. But I'll make up for it, I promise."

  Kenna took the flowers from him, and burst into tears.

  "Hey, hey, shit I'm sorry. Lord, love, please don’t cry. I'll throw them away, I'll go, oh fuck it."

  Kenna found herself lifted off the floor and into his arms with the flowers crushed between them. The kiss he gave her as he bumped the door shut with his heel made her head spin, her clit tighten, and her nipples rub painfully against her bra.

  She pushed at him while she still had the ability and strength. Nico moved back as if he'd been stung, and gently set her down again. He didn't let go of her though, and Kenna held onto that as a good sign.

  "You're squashing my flowers."

  "They were a bit worse for wear anyway," Nico pointed out.

  "That's not the point. It's the first flowers you've ever gotten for me." She was going to press them and put them in her keepsake box.

  "Eh? Never. I've bought you flowers before, surely."

  "Exactly. Bought, not brought. If that was a Freudian slip you got it in one. These are special. They really are from you. You, yourself, not asked for and delivered by a. n. other. That matters." She put the flowers down on the dressing table and hugged him. "You didn't mind me leaving you that letter? I really didn’t want to get up close and personal with your sisters in the next room, ears to a glass on the door and cheering or jeering as they thought appropriate."

  "Ah, love, it was the best letter I've ever had. It made me hard. I'm still hard. 'If you want me, all of me, I'm in room 403'," Nico said softly as he quoted the words she'd thought long and hard about before she'd put them to paper. "I do and you know what? I'm in room 403 now as well."

  She giggled nervously. The next few moments could well define her future.

  "You know you said I couldn't have a job?"

  "I was a stupid ass. Of course you can. You can do anything you want and I'll back you." He titled his head to one side and pulled the lobe of his ear, thoughtfully. "Well I'd prefer you not to be an escort, a stripper, or a pole dancer. There's bits of you I really do not want to share, but apart from that? The world's your oyster." He began to undo the buttons that crossed the shoulders of her dress and held it together. "Oh grey silk. I'm a sucker for grey silk."

  "Good," Kenna said and tried to ignore the way he stroked her skin as each button left its fastenings. "Hold on a sec. You see you're almost right, but not quite, with regards to my job."

  "I knew it, you're Miss Lottie Luscious, and dance on the table at the Kittens with Claws Club." Nico rolled his eyes and sketched the outline of a very voluptuous woman. "Okay, I'll pull up the boxers and deal with it. After all if you have to suffer women shouting ‘take your kecks off Hughes’ at me, I guess I can suffer guys ogling your assets." He really didn’t sound as if he meant it, but Kenna had to give him an A for effort.

  If anything showed her how he'd changed, and how much she still loved him that did. Kenna picked up a bottle of wine and poured him a glass. "It's not champagne, I left that for your sisters, but it is a good sauvignon.” She handed him the glass and poured one for herself.

  "So, no stripping or pole dancing. I'm nowhere coordinated enough for that." She sipped some wine and cleared her throat.

  "Mind you, I am an escort."

  ****

  Right. It was the last thing he thought she'd say. It obviously worried the hell out of his lady, judging by the way she nibbled her lips and looked at him with cloudy, worried eyes.

  "Okay," he said when he thought he could speak without his voice breaking. "An escort. Hmm. Right."

  "Do you mind? That's why I'm here. I have a job starting tomorrow for a few days."

  Honesty, remember?

  "Well to be truthful it’s not the sort of thing I'd prefer you to do," Nico said. "Er, it's a bit… Fuck it, let's be frank here. I hate the idea of you even going out to dinner with someone else, job or not. If that makes me a chauvinistic Neanderthal, then so be it. Escorting? As in an escort?"

  Kenna nodded and dipped her head. He swore her shoulders moved and became immediately suspicious. "Kenna, who are you escorting tomorrow? Is it a male?"

  "Yep. Two in fact."

  "For how long?"

  "Three days."

  Why wouldn't she look at him? He pinched her chin and lifted her head up. Her eyes were full of something that wasn't worry.

  More like mischief.

  "Doing what exactly?"

  "Going with them to Dubai, and er… leaving them there."

  A program he'd flicked through when he'd been bored after a gig one night flickered in his mind.

  "Kenna, my love, how old are these males you're going to consort with?"

  She burst out laughing. "I wondered when you'd twig. Five and seven. They're off home for the holidays and their dad can't get back to fetch them. Their mum is almost nine months pregnant so she can't fly. I've been escorting kids all over the world for a fair few months now. Since…" her voice trailed off.

  "Since I was a prat?"

  "Actually since before then. Since just after we got married and you were a very absentee husband. I once thought it was a bit like, ohh a strange man got into my bed last night. I thought my luck was in and then I realized it was my usually absentee husband."

  He winced. "Ouch."

  "Very." She sniggered. "Do you know you almost bumped into me at Hong Kong airport once? Literally."

  "I did? And what happened?"

  Some guy steered you around me and you gave me a vague smile and a 'sorry, babe'. I ducked my head down, and you went off to the first class lounge. I went to the food court and downed a burger and a bottle of fizzy water."

  "Shit."

  "Why? It didn't make any difference. I was still home three weeks before you."

  "God what a fucker I was. Are you still sure you want to take a chance with me? Let me woo on?"

  "Oh yeah. What comes next?" Kenna wound her arms around his neck and snuggled into him. Nico held her butt tightly and let his hands roam down a bit, and another bit and…

  "Kenna, love. Are you wearing what I hope you are? With no knickers, you hussy?"

  "Well." She tilted her head back to look up at him. This close the gorgeous specks in her eyes were pronounced. "I thought, you might be tired and it's one less thing to shuck off. And I have to be at the airport for eleven and its five now. Time is off the essence."

  "Do you want just to snuggle then?" Hell, he hoped not. Masochism wasn't high on the list of things he loved.

  "No. Make love or I'll sulk."

  "Oh no, we can't have you sulking now, can we?" Nico picked her up once more and headed for the bed to drop her wi
th a gentle thump on to the bed. She'd thoughtfully—or hopefully—turned back the covers.

  ""I want you so much. I love you so much, I'm bloody shaking. Look." He held his hand out. "I daren't let you touch me or even me strip you, or I’ll come there and then. I'm so bloody hard it'll be difficult to even get my jeans over my cock. Can you take off your dress and bra for me? Oh and leave the stockings. It's a fantasy of mine. You in sexy grey stockings and suspenders, me buried deep in your pussy, and your long silk clad legs around my neck. Ah hell, fuck it." He counted to ten and thought of root canal treatment. "Ice water, cold baths come on, think cold."

  Kenna laughed uninhibitedly, threw her dress and bra in the direction of her case, and opened her legs wide. Her bare pussy shone with the evidence of her arousal and her nipples peaked hard and proud.

  "What are you waiting for then? Come on! I'm yours." Her smile was one of a houri, enticing and hinting of things to come.

  He kicked his jeans off, pulled his t-shirt over his head and crawled between her outstretched legs. "Since when have you dared to be bare?"

  "Since just after we… ah, do you mind?"

  "I love it," he said honestly. "It's so bloody gorgeous. I'm so fucking turned on, and it’s been a while, well since we last, okay, had sex but this is different, I won't last long."